Hoping I would heal quicker if I lied down, I spent much of the afternoon in bed. Every once in a while I would doze off. Just before I got up, I dreamt that Dorian and Maya came to visit me. They stomped their feet on the wooden floor of the landing and sang out of tune. “Ho-ho-ho,” I think it was, very much in the Christmas spirit. They were horsing around. And they were ever closer to the bedroom door, which was closed. Judging by their voices and the noise they were making, they were much younger than they are today. Six and three, say. Just as Dorian grabbed hold of the doorknob, I panicked. These could not be Dorian and Maya! Someone else was at the door! Somehow they managed to get into the house! The door was open a crack already when I woke up. I quickly turned my head toward the door, but it was still closed. The house was as quiet as a tomb.